


All You Touch Crumbles

by incantamenta



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 08x23, Depression, Gen, Sacrifice, Season 8, Suicide Attempt, fallen!cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-16
Updated: 2013-05-16
Packaged: 2017-12-12 00:57:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/805285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/incantamenta/pseuds/incantamenta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Heaven has fallen and Castiel cannot handle the strength of these newly human emotions, particularly the guilt. He's always failed in his attempts to do good - to fix his mistakes - time and time again, but he figured he couldn't fail this. After all, this would end it all, this would make everything better. It had to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All You Touch Crumbles

**Author's Note:**

> Set after s8 finale. Trigger warnings for self-harm, suicide attempt, and depression. Castiel’s POV. 
> 
> Unbeta-ed. All mistakes are my own. [Various edits: 16 May 2013 -- 21:05]
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing of the SPN franchise, especially not its characters or universe. Enjoy.

It was the guilt, in the end, that did him in. Well, that and the liquor collection at the Men of Letters headquarters. Castiel lay in the bed the Winchesters had given him, staring up at the ceiling as if it held all the answers as to how he could fix this. He couldn’t, and the heavy burden of guilt weighed on him day after day. It had always been a very strong emotion, but now it was so much more intense than when he’d had his grace intact, because now he was so very human.

His brothers and sisters had fallen. They were doomed, as was he. Hell was still wide open and Heaven had been ripped from them. He’d trusted Metatron when he would ultimately be their downfall. He had been the last part of the spell. He had failed them all, so how was he supposed to live with that? The pain these new emotions wrought was too much, and had Cas been tougher, he wouldn’t be lying on that bed, bottle of whisky dangling from his fingers.

The words from so many months ago rang in his mind: ‘ _If I see what Heaven's become -- what I... what I made of it... I'm afraid I might kill myself_.’ Well look at what he’d done now: Heaven was worse than ever because he’d brought about its destruction single handedly. If he hadn’t been so blind, so determined to fix it that he'd lost all connection to reason, well… He laughed bitterly and managed another swig of the amber liquid Dean had always been so fond of. It didn’t matter at this point how it tasted; Castiel wasn’t in it for that. His emotions were finally beginning to feel desensitized and the edges of his mind were fogging. It didn’t take much anymore; getting drunk was easy when you were freshly human.

Cas tried to sit up but the world spun too quickly and slammed him right back onto the bed. His head turned slowly to stare at the now empty bottle of pills and hastily scrawled note. He laughed again and then began to cry. He couldn’t fix this; he was too broken. He broke everything he touched. His heart was pounding too quickly in his chest now and he felt the knowledge distantly that any second it would simply stop on him. He welcomed the cold finality of death as long as it would just stop this overpowering guilt. He started to sob, which wasn’t exactly out of the norm these days. They wouldn't come to check on him for some time, which would hopefully allow for his final mission to be completed. A particularly wrecked sob escaped his lips as he realized that he couldn’t even hold in for Dean or Sam.

It was the end for him as his vision darkened until he felt his grip on consciousness loosen and he passed out, the medicine and alcohol beginning their work. ‘ _Goodbye, Dean_ ,’ the muddled thought hardly solid enough for him to grasp the finality of his actions.

It wasn’t until he found himself hours later in a hospital surrounded by two very distraught Winchesters that Castiel realized that he’d been saved again. “Dammit,” he mouthed, throat too raw from the tube that had no doubt been shoved down it to pump his stomach. He’d even fucked up dying. “Dammit,” he croaked this time, the hot tears prickling at his eyes.

“Cas? Cas, buddy. Don’t you ever do that again!” Dean said as softly as he could manage while still holding onto that hardness. “Can’t fucking believe you, man! I almost- We almost lost you.” Cas turned his now-dulled blue eyes to look at him, his cheeks stained with the tears that were now spilling over. Dean looked like he might kill someone (‘ _please let it be me_ ,’ his mind screamed) or cry, possibly both.

“I can’t do this, Dean. I broke it, all of it. I can’t do this…”

“Yeah? Well, you’re going to fix it and we’re going to help. Dammit, Cas! We can fix this!” Castiel stared at him for a full minute in surprise, certain that Dean couldn’t possibly remember the last time he’d uttered those words to him.

“No.” The note of finality didn't even faze him at this point.

“No?” Twin sounds of surprise and faint anger answered him as the brothers stared down at him.

“No… I have tried so hard to atone for my mistakes, to fix them, and look at what I’ve done now.” It was Sam’s turn to speak up.

“Cas, you were tricked into this. You thought were you doing good,” he said, expression sympathetic. Cas made note that it was amazing that Sam was even standing considering how poorly he’d been lately.

“When don’t I?” he asked bitterly. “I always think I’m doing the right thing.”

“Fine,” Dean said, backing away slightly, earning a momentary shocked look from his brother. “Fine, Cas, think that way. Y’know what? It won't get you anywhere. If you won’t do it for you, for Heaven or any of those damn ex-winged sons of bitches, then do it for us. Do it for your family. And don’t you dare try to take this path again or I swear to God I will handcuff you to your bed so fast you won’t even be able to think of repeating it.” He leaned in again, glaring at him with such intensity that Cas felt himself subtly shift further into the pillow propping him up.

“I’ve been there, Cas, that place where it seems like there’s nothing that’s going to make life better, where I should just give up and let it all go. And y’know what, I’ve thought about it. Hell, my life is basically one big suicide mission, but at the end of it all? I’ve got Sammy. And you. So stow your crap and get better so you can come home with us. There’s a load of shit a mile high that we’ve got to get through, but we _will_ get through this, Cas. I promise.” Despite his previous experience with trusting too much, despite everything that came with that action, Castiel trusted Dean and his heart squeezed with all of these new emotions. It was Dean’s honesty in the end that forced his change of heart.  
“Okay,” he croaked, not able to look him in the eye.

“Okay?” Dean’s voice was softer now, hopeful.

“Okay.” It would be a long road, but he would try. Hopefully, they would even make it by the end of it all.


End file.
